What Happens In Vegas
by thegirlwhowondered
Summary: Vegas: 8826! The screens are holographic, the aliens are regulars, but one thing hasn't changed about Sin City - what happens in Vegas usually does not stay in Vegas. Implied!Whouffle. You'll see why ;)


**A/N: Thanks to youngtitan213 on Tumblr for the prompt _"__The Doctor and Clara actually make it to Vegas". Enjoy _  
**

"Viva Las Vegas!"

The Doctor bounded out of his TARDIS, with his arms wide open, ready to embrace whatever world he'd just stepped out into. And, much to even his own surprise, it was exactly the world he'd been trying to land in too! Although they were a little far ahead. Oh well.

"And now, my dear, where would you like to g-"

The Doctor had spun around, expecting to find his pretty young companion on his heels, as she usually was. Instead, she was nowhere in sight. He was met only by the open door of the TARDIS. "Um, Clara?"

"I'll be right out!" Came the voice of said companion; and she was indeed right out…and wearing a heavy, bright yellow raincoat and gumboots.

The Doctor took a quick glance at their surroundings, then back at Clara. Something was off here. "It isn't raining," he observed, quite pointlessly.

This earned a nod from Clara. "Well, I'm not taking any chances this time, do you know how long it took me to get my shoes dry after the submarine incident?" she declared, hands on her hips. The Doctor had to wonder if she was genuinely worried about ending up in another submarine, or if she was just taking the mickey out of him.

So, he just nodded. Personally, he thought that Clara was overdoing it a little if her worry was legitimate, but of course, he let her have her way. He always would.

"In that case, Geronimo! There's a lot to see, and we have forever to see it. But why wait that long, right?" He spun once more and was off; and this time, Clara did follow along behind, with a tiny smirk on her face.

The Doctor reached out, linking their hands together as they walked past the beautiful, bright buildings. It was nighttime, but the streets were still beautifully illuminated with colour and light and movement. Screens projected images into the darkness, filling up the void of the cloudy, starless sky. There was noise and activity everywhere, as well as the obvious potential for trouble.

"I can see why you love it here," Clara remarked. "It seems a little advanced to be my time, though. We're in the future, aren't we?"

Just as the Doctor made to reply, hooded figure stepped in front of the two, blocking their path. "Why, hello Doctor." The voice was definitely male.

"Zarith! How'd you know it was me?" The Doctor seemed to brighten up instantly.

The man in the cloak pulled his hood back, to reveal a face that was definitely more machine than human. And what little skin he had was a deep shade of orange. Clara blinked, her eyes wide with surprise for a brief moment; but she got over the shock pretty quick. Honestly, this Zarith wouldn't be the weirdest alien she'd met.

"Oh Doctor." Zarith's voice held a slight hint of amusement. "Who else in all the cosmos would wear a _bowtie_ and that hair to the party capital of the star system, hmm?"

The Doctor gasped, placing his free hand protectively over his bowtie. "Excuse me, but bowties are cool."

"Whatever you say." Zarith reached out and tenderly bopped Clara on the nose. "And who is this cute little human, hmm?"

"I'm Clara," she answered, a little taken aback by this random show of affection.

"Clara, what a pretty name. Hello, Clara." Zarith turned his attention back to the Doctor. "About time you settled down. And it comes as no surprise that you chose to marry a human. As I recall, you have a special fondness for them, don't you?"

The Doctor didn't even bother to deny the marriage thing. "You can talk," he quipped, gesturing to a small group of maybe three or four young women who were pointing at Zarith and giggling.

"Ahh yes!" He waved at the women, before turning his attention back to the Doctor. "Speaking of, I'd best be off. Catch you later."

The Doctor waved enthusiastically as Zarith went to join his group of admirers. Clara also waved, but much less wholeheartedly.

"Um," she whispered, watching as Zarith and his group of admirers made their way into a nearby building. "He's an alien. I can get that, yeah. But…did he call Vegas the party capitol of the star system?"

The Doctor nodded bright, wrapping an arm around Clara. "It's 8826! At least half the people who live in Vegas full-time are aliens. So are a good deal of the visitors. It's quite the tourist destination."

"…Right." Clara nodded slowly, trying to take this all in.

"Oh, don't worry. They're all nice. Anyway!" The Doctor bounced on the balls of his feet cheerfully. "Lots to see! Ready, Clara?"

Clara nodded brightly, and away they went.

* * *

So, a little dancing, a little drinking, a little mingling. A night on the town with the Doctor, seeing the sights and enjoying everything Vegas has to offer. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything, as Clara soon learned.

"I thought you said they were _nice_," she hissed as they slammed the door behind them.

"Slight miscalculation," the Doctor admitted, biting his lip. "It seems humans aren't the only ones subject to acting strange when they've been drinking alcohol."

That was when the bashing on the door began. "So is this a part of the Vegas experience? Being chased by a six-foot humanoid crab?"

"That's racist!" The Doctor argued, jumping back just in time to dodge the claw that managed to make a hole in the wooden door. "And yet, a surprisingly accurate description."

"What do we do?"

"Give him a few minutes, he'll calm down." A loud, high-pitched cry pierced the air. "…I hope."

"And in the meantime?" Clara pulled the Doctor, who was still trying to push the door shut, away from the giant claw.

"Err…" The Doctor pointed to a set of double doors, which were slightly ajar. It was the only place to go. "Through here!"

The two darted towards the doors, but were blocked by some sort of receptionist who, until now, had remained calm and unnoticed, like this was an everyday occurrence.

"Uh-uh. Gotta sign before you can go in there." She held up a piece of paper and pointed to two separate dotted lines on the bottom.

Clara made to argue, but the Doctor stopped her. "We don't have time to stand around and bicker, we have to get out of here and through the back is the only way. Besides, it's probably just some legal waver."

Clara nodded and signed with a shaky hand. The Doctor did the same, and they bolted through the double doors, just as the front wooden one was torn from its hinges.

The Doctor and Clara ran through the spacious room, stopping just as they reached some sort of dais. Honestly, they'd both expected to find a kind of armoury, maybe, or something that would actually _warrant _a legal waver; hence the signatures. But all there was in the room was a tall man in a long white robe, reading something from a book in a dull voice.

Neither the Doctor nor Clara had time to question this though, as the giant crab – also known as Vox, as he'd introduced himself when he was sober – barrelled towards the pair.

Acting on instinct alone, Clara picked up a chair (definitely what she'd call her favourite weapon) and hit Vox in the torso, just as he made to swipe at the Doctor.

For a moment, all the Doctor could do was grin proudly at his companion. This only lasted a second though, as Vox quickly recovered and made to swipe again, this time at the man in the robes. He continued to read from his little book, as though this happened all the time. Maybe it did. What _was_ this place anyway?

The Doctor picked up a chair from the stack and swung at Vox, aiming for his head. The alien was knocked off his feet and hit the ground with a loud _thud_, totally unconscious.

"Ooh, that's gonna hurt in the morning," Clara noted, biting her lip.

The Doctor set his chair down and nodded. "Bright side though, your chairs theory has proven useful once again. Well done, Clara!"

Clara beamed proudly and looked around the room. "Um, so where _are_ we?" It was very bright, with shiny stained glass windows. In fact, it oddly resembled a place Clara had been before.

"Hang on," said the Doctor, the same realisation dawning on him. "I don't think those were wavers we signed…"

"…I now pronounce you man, woman or other and spouse. You may kiss your bride, groom or else life partner."

The robed man silently closed his book, and organ music stared up from seemingly nowhere.

"Ah…" Clara began, but there were no words. The Doctor too was speechless.

They were in a chapel. Those were wedding papers they'd signed.

And they were now a legally married couple.


End file.
